y ten minutes when a
lithe, tawny form appeared, sniffing at his trail and pausing often to
look suspiciously about. "Panther," thought the Hermit, with a thrill of
pleasure that his watching had so soon yielded results.

It was the same panther who had so nearly made a meal of Flat Tail
several months before. The beast, finding food scarce, had drifted south
far from its usual haunts and, locating the beaver lodges, had decided
to winter in the locality. Following the man's trail the panther, too,
stepped out upon the dam. It soon caught the faint, warm scent rising
from the ventilating hole of a near-by lodge. Frantically it dug at the
top of the dome, but it yielded no more than had the dam under the man's
axe.

Baffled, the big cat gave up its useless scratching and again turned to
the trail which had led it to the pond. As the beast came nearer, and
the Hermit realized that it was probably made bold by hunger, he blessed
the forethought which had led him to bring his axe along when he left
his pile of firewood and struck off through the forest to visit the
beaver pond.

The panther advanced, its body close to the ground and its great feet
bearing it upon the crust as if it wore snowshoes. It was coming
uncomfortably close and the Hermit began to experience a creepy
sensation. He had little fear that, armed as he was, the beast would
dare attack him in broad daylight, but nevertheless it gave him an
unpleasant feeling to see his trail stalked.

It was evident that the panther had scented him. It stopped and crouched
lower, motionless save for the tip of its long tail which waved back and
forth in a way which fascinated the man. The beast seemed more curious
than ferocious, but in spite of that the Hermit thought it high time to
create a diversion.

Remembering the effect of his shout upon the lynx the day he had rescued
Dave Lansing, the trapper, he was about to spring to his feet. Suddenly
a deer came into sight, stopped an instant, terrified at sight of its
hereditary enemy, and then leaped away with the panther in pursuit. Thus
the Hermit was left free to return to his firewood and the safety of his
cabin.

Before leaving, however, he scraped the snow from a spot upon the
surface of the pond and, putting his face close to the ice, looked
down. Through the clear water he saw the storehouse of the beavers and
even caught a glimpse of a brown shadow which at once vanished into a
dark passage. But, though the